Things have been their usual busy, though not in the usual ways. I’ve had to cut back on many activities and redirect time and energy to a complicated family matter in another state. (Is it just me, or do “complicated” and “family” seem redundant in that sentence?)
I’ve also had a steady stream of editing work, for which I am very grateful, but all this has left me little time to write. I am equally thankful for the many writers in my life, whose posts and e-mail keep me grounded in the creative world. One such recent e-mail so tickled me that I played around with until it formed a rough poem, which I share with you here.
Recovered word
Recently in the course of writing a poem
I thought of the word louche (disreputable).
I didn’t really remember its meaning but it felt
right. I looked the word up and it was exactly
the meaning I was looking for. This experience
is one of the most rewarding things about writing.
(found poem, e-mail from Alexander Metro, 13dec19)
frosted leaves, seen on morning walk
The Daily Compost 